Second Chance Brides by Vickie Mcdonough Page A

walnut and sturdy enough not to break against Garrett’s hard head.”
    A wounded look crossed Garrett’s face. “Ladies, please. I’ve simply come to do business with Miss O’Neil. I promise her virtue—and everything else—is safe.”
    “All right then. I suppose I’ll go back to my kitchen. But if you need me, Shannon, just holler.” Rachel left the room, casting a curious glance back over her shoulder at Garrett.
    He grabbed a side chair and pulled it closer to Shannon. Even though she’d told Rachel not to stay, not knowing what Mr. Corbett wanted made her apprehensive. What business could he possibly have with her?
    He placed his arms on his legs and leaned forward until his face was just three feet from hers. His startling blue eyes were the exact same shade as his brother’s. His straight hair was a wee bit darker than Mark’s curly blond hair, and though they looked similar, there was something about Mark that appealed to her. Something that wasn’t affected by Garrett’s presence.
    “How’s your leg? Better? Can you walk yet?” He fired questions like a shooter fired bullets.
    “’Tis somewhat better, but I cannot put much weight on it yet.”
    “Hmm…we can work around that.” He stared into her eyes. “The reason I’m here is that I want to offer you a position of employment at Corbetts’ Freight Office.”

C HAPTER 5
     

     
    L eah trotted downstairs to the lower floor of the boardinghouse. She simply had to find something to do or she’d go batty. As she reached the final step, she heard voices coming from the parlor. Slowing her steps, she glanced in as she reached the doorway. Shannon sat on one of the settees with her feet lying across the cushion. Her shoes were off, and one ankle had been wrapped in a bandage.
    Garrett Corbett had moved one of the side chairs closer to the settee so that he could sit facing Shannon. What could he want with her? Maybe he was just checking up on her since his brother had been partially to blame for her injury. She longed to listen, but Garrett was speaking in such a low tone, and she knew eavesdropping was rude, so Leah forced her feet to keep moving.
    She found Rachel in the kitchen, where the woman spent a large portion of her day. Leah knew what slaving over a hot stove for hours at a time felt like. Hadn’t she cooked hundreds of meals for her family? At times she missed her parents and brothers and sisters, but she wouldn’t return home for all the pecan pie in Missouri—and there was plenty, to be sure. She’d worked from before sunup to well after dark and never seemed to catch up. Her mother’s health was poor from bearing so many children, and Leah felt guilty at times for abandoning her, but her twin sisters were old enough to help out, and it would cause the girls to grow up.
    Leah leaned on the door frame. Besides, if she’d stayed at home, by now she’d probably be married to old Mr. Abernathy and wouldn’t be helping her ma anyway.
    “Oh, Leah. I didn’t see you standing there.” Rachel rested her floured hand over her chest. “Do you need something?”
    Leah straightened. “Sorry, I just got caught up thinking about home.”
    Rachel returned to braiding the lattice top of her apple pie. “Do you miss it?”
    Leah pressed her lips together for a moment, fighting a smile. Rachel had an almost perfect handprint on her chest from the flour. Once she regained her composure, she nodded. “Sometimes I do.”
    “But not enough to return home?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    “Might I ask why?” Rachel paused, holding a strip of dough in the air.
    What could she say that didn’t make her sound selfish? That she didn’t want to care for her siblings all the time but rather wanted a life of her own? That she couldn’t marry the man who all but purchased her from her father? That she’d wanted an adventure before settling down to marry?
    Leah fought back a snort. Well, she’d certainly gotten that, hadn’t she?
    She